Molly sat off the track, letting the salty, fishy air wash over her, carrying some of the worries away. The sun was bright and happy. She wasn't so happy. Her sketch pad was hard to pin down. She finally sat crosslegged on the deck and used her knee to keep it still, which kinda intruded on a quarter of the sheet. She was sketching an empty deck chair, as she had broken her phone with its referance pictures.
Pushing one of her twin braids behind her ear for the umpteenth time, and Sean would lie to anyone who asked how her hair had gotten braided up, she sighed in disgust and looked up at the familiar sound of sneakers hitting deck. Runner. The woman had an arm in a sling, like Molly, although hers wasn't strapped around her ribs. She also had both hands in casts.
"Dousn't that hurt bones deep? Screaming in the skin?" Molly asked loud enough to be heard.